Stone Circle I'm just so alone

I don't want Merrit dying but recognize the weight of his IC actions; I'm definitely willing to discuss outcomes over Discord!

Merrit heeded the call for his sister, as any good brother would. Because she was not here to tell this man away, he reasoned, but even if Arlette had been here to attend the call herself, he would not have let her do so alone. The voice was deep, masculine, and they were at the age of courting now. They were not boys and girls, but men and women -- and men and women did not simply call for each other with such urgency as this man had without bearing some ulterior motive in mind.

But what he found, well -- he'd expected to come upon some proper, if not extravagant scene, of some swarthy man ready to peacock himself around, with flowers clutched between his teeth, ready to woo and wax eloquence to soft-hearted and sweet Arlette. Instead, he came upon this -- a bout of strangers, raising guns and taking aim, mere steps from his porch.

His attention shifted from one to the other, taking stock of the balance, and gauging his own action. And then, he saw her: pale fur blanched as though crawling up from sea salt, dark head reared like the ocean's very depths. His nostrils seemed to flood with brine, his mended reality dripped away; the night seemed stark as day, the yellowed grass lush and green and altogether bright.

Another familiar scent overcame him; he could not stop.

Do you know what we must do?

A dark, twisting night. Trees, bending at angles he didn't know trees could bend. Laughing, the shadows laughed. Came up empty. Dark scents, dark trails. Hunting. Searching. Questioning.

How this must end?

He knew, he'd known all along, but was this the forest? The hillside? Some astral plane? He tried to make sense -- but did it matter? Yes. No? Where was @Hydra? @Leta? The rest of Easthollow? The world became a pinprick, until Caiaphas and that overwhelming murderous stench was all he could see, all he could taste, all that could possibly matter.

Yes.

His own voice rattled through his mind like some distant echo, and Merrit launched himself at Illidan, moving in to do more than intercept, more than maim.

They must die.